


Last Man Standing

by Icy_Hot_Soba



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Competition, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 18:57:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11363583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icy_Hot_Soba/pseuds/Icy_Hot_Soba
Summary: The rules were simple and the plans calculated, but only one man will succeed.





	Last Man Standing

“The rules are simple. Whoever makes Ignis fall gets the last Memory Lane Pastry,”Noctis stated with a hint of gloating in his voice. The prince saw no reason to hold this competition when his victory was practically guaranteed, yet watching Prompto fail was something photo worthy in his young mind. Continuing his rushed speech as he stood, Noct glanced at Ignis who he believed was completely blindsided by the trio’s plot,”Prompto, you’re up first. We only get one shot each.”

“Well, I don’t wanna brag or anything, but,”Prompto nonchalantly waltzed toward his prey, glancing back at his two comrades with a triumphant smile,”that pastry’s all mine.”

“We’ll see about that,”Gladiolus said, huffing with folded arms. All three men had their sights on that pastry. It had been months since Ignis last prepared the simple meal for the group, but a hard, long day called for an extra reward in the chef’s apathetic eyes. Ignis, however, only ate one of his two pastries, leaving the three to decide who deserved it more.

Ignis took a sip of Ebony as he read a small passage from a news update on some daemons running amok in Lestallum. Nothing of great importance but something the brunette would bring up to Noctis come morning. The shining projection of white and black reflected onto the advisor’s spectacles from his small handheld. Reclining against his Coleman chair, Ignis shut off the bright screen, shoving his small cellular into his jacket’s pocket. If not for Prompto’s blundering strides, the young blonde may have pulled off his futile attempt.

As the aspiring photographer came up from behind Ignis, he held his breathe. Prompto tried desperately not to give his devious plan away, though lack of air made him a bit dizzy. This clouded the freckled man’s focus. Crouching behind Ignis with quicker yet much softer steps, Prompto reached for the Coleman chair in front of him. With one final, and very loud, stride, Prompto took a quick breath along with his swift action of grasping the frail chair and jerking it toward himself. The chair briskly collapsed, but it was not the only item laying against the cool, rough dirt. The force of heaving an empty chair left Prompto unbalanced, more so than he usually was. To the blonde’s surprise, Ignis was not only standing above him, but a small scowl plastered the chef’s face. Two distinct laughs roared from beyond the campfire, one low and boisterous while the other dribbled in between uneven gasps for air.

“Is this what you lot were concocting?” Ignis’ disapproval littered his question. Awaiting any sort of reply from the freckled blonde, Ignis subconsciously placed a feminine hand against his slender waist.

Prompto fumbled over words, stuttering phrases like _uh_ and _um_ throughout his guilty excuse. While Prompto laid completely baffled, this made a prime opportunity for the young prince to act, and act he did. Noctis warped through the blazing fire, planning to tackle Ignis from behind. Alas, upon Noct’s arrival, there was no royal advisor standing in his way. Noctis landed on top of his frail friend, both quickly jolting away from one another upon impact.

“What’s your problem, man?!”

“I wasn’t aiming for you!”

More hearty laughter erupted from behind the fire. With a rather sultry groan, Ignis glared at Gladio,”I would imagine this means you are next.”

“Nah, the pastry’s all yours,”speaking through chuckles, Gladiolus casually waltzed toward Ignis. However, the advisor took a step away from the brute,”Oh, am I supposed to fall for that?”

Gladiolus simply shrugged, walking past Ignis to help the confused duo onto their feet. Prompto and Noctis glanced at each other before staring at the smug smile across Gladio’s scarred face.

Like an etch-a-sketch board, Gladio spun on his right foot to stare at Ignis with a dull expression. The brute fixated on Ignis’ shirt, no spot in particular. With a step toward his partner, Gladio pointed with a faulty observation,”Hey, Iggy. You’ve got something on your shirt.”

Gladiolus seemed as bland as usual, quite believable, so the younger lad let his guard down. Ignis glanced at his shirt, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. His worn buttoned up top may have been crinkled, but to his vision, it was spot free. That is when Ignis realized he made a vital mistake.

Gladiolus reached for Ignis’ side before the brunette could escape, tickling it upon touch. Quickly wrapping his free arm securely around Ignis, the advisor was rendered vulnerable. Ignis desperately pushed Gladio’s sturdy chest, but the brute refused to retreat. Gleam and regret clouded Ignis’ soft eyes as giggling slipped from the man’s pudgy lips. Softened giggles quickly turned into innocent laughter as tears built up in the young man’s eyes. Blood rushed to Ignis’ cheeks; the embarrassed man kept his eyes shut tight, filled with disbelief at the outcome of this daring night. Ignis could only tolerate Gladio’s skilled fingers for mere seconds before retreating the only way Gladio would allow, collapsing to the ground.

“Looks like the pastry’s all mine.”


End file.
